Lonely Letters
by IceWing
Summary: While on her path to redemption in prison, Faith finds she has a pen pal. (Some Harsh Language and Realistic depiction of the harshness and cruelty of prison life) - Divergent Destinies storyline
1. Chapter One

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: In case we're not clear on this, Joss owns the Buffy-verse (we really need a better word for it than that), I'm just tresspassing on an unwatching corner of it.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter One  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])  


Faith lay on her bunk, reading through a book from the prison library. As she learned more about the kinds of stuff people went through in the old days, she almost always wished she had stuck it out in school instead of quitting.

The rattling wheel of the mail cart broke her concentration and she looked over the side of the bunk to watch as the trustee walked by her cell, an every day occurrence. But today, the cart stopped in front of her cell. The trustee looked up at her, then at the letter and back, almost like this was some kind of sign of the apocalypse or something. Then, without a word, she slid the envelope through the bars. Faith took it numbly. She'd never gotten a letter before in her life. 

Because nobody cared about her enough to bother.

The address was neatly printed, the postmark from SunnyDale. No name on the return address, just a PO Box. 

Her hands shaking slightly, she pulled the pages from the already opened envelope and began to read the neatly printed words

_Hey Faith, _

_Things are dead here (no pun intended) here in SunnyDale, and for some bizarre reason, I got the idea to write you and just fill you in on what's been happening. I figure you don't get a lot of news from Angel as he isn't exactly up on the current events around here any more. _

_I am assuming you heard about Joyce dying. It hit all of us pretty hard. Buffy and Dawn most of all. I am figuring you may or may not 'remember' Dawn, Buffy's sister. Long story and until we get some issues resolved with Glory, I don't want to give out too much in case the anti-Scoobies somehow get a hold of this. Not that I think you would ever tell them anything, actually I'm more worried about getting attacked on the way to the post office. Anyway, Glory is our newest chess partner. She's a real hardcase too, acts like she's a goddess, to the point where even Giles and his former employers believe it. Actually, they're not his former employers anymore. Buffy read them the riot act and backed them down good. He got reinstated and even got like 3 years back pay out of it. Those Brit's were not happy, but Buffy told them that they are there to support the chosen, not the other way around and even threw one of those swords from the school play, the one about some secret ancient organization of knights from the middle east, through a wall. Scared the piss out of the guy and they gave us all the help that we can ever ask for, with no more hoops, for any of us. Bet you are happy to hear about that._

_Anyway, like I was saying, Joyce's death really shook up Buffy and Dawn. They are both still trying to deal with it. Fortunately Joyce knew enough about the health risks in town to take out a jumbo sized life insurance policy. So they aren't going to be tossed out on the street or anything. Their dad sent flowers and called, but hasn't shown up yet. He missed the funeral too. _

_Xander is still with Anya, although I am pretty sure that something is going to change there. I've noticed her eyes wandering quite a bit when she thinks that Xander isn't watching. But he sees it. I think that he's trying to steel himself for her dumping him, but its not easy. Relationships and Harris don't seem to go together real well. _

_Willow and Tara are doing well. Tara is Willow's girlfriend in case you didn't know. They're closing in on like a year and a half together now, and going strong. Its good to see somebody in our group managing to find happiness. We all seem to have problems hanging on to it. Giles for example has now lost Jenny and Joyce. Buffy's been put through it because of the whole Angel/Angelus thing, Riley (who was into having some of those hardcore Goth types act like they were sucking his blood, don't ask, I don't get it). Xander seems to attract the monsters, and the ones who aren't completely evil to the core tend to push him away instead of letting him show them how special they are inside. You've had a lot of trouble too, from the crap that went down back east, to how we treated you when you came to town, to how Wesley tried to act all holier than though when things were pretty bleak already. This line of work really sucks. Sometimes I really doubt if I will survive it long enough to retire. Somehow, I really doubt it. But I just can't seem to quit._

_I was thinking about you the other afternoon. I know things weren't the best when you left, and for a long time before that now that I think about it. But I miss you sometimes. I know that sounds weird, but its true. I have been looking back at some of the things that were said, and I have begun to realize just how much we screwed up by not helping you fit into the gang better. Not that you wanted to be like us completely, but that I don't know, just that we should have tried harder, done a better job. I feel like I let you down Faith. I'm sorry. _

_But like I was saying, I was thinking about some of the conversations we had, and I realize that I missed so much of who you were inside. Little glimpses of the real you, not the armored shell you have around you, but the real you. Little flashes that I saw and didn't realize at the time what they were. I wish I had taken the time then, been smart enough to see what you really were inside. _

_Maybe that's part of why I am writing you now, because I want to make it up to you. _

_Maybe because I think you could use somebody to talk to sometimes. That you could use a friend._

_Maybe because I think you would be a really good friend._

_*Laugh * Of course, I say that, but you probably still have no idea who exactly is writing this letter to you. And now I'm going to be weird and not tell you. Believe it or not, its deliberate, but I just don't want you to know who wrote you, partially because I'm afraid that if you knew, you wouldn't write back and also because if you knew, you might laugh at me for apologizing for the way I treated you. _

_But anyway, I really do want to be your friend, if you'll have me._

_I hope to hear from you Faith, although for the life of me I don't know why I get my hopes up. It's a bad habit I think I have, and it'll probably get me killed one day._

_Anyway, I hope things are well for you. _

_Be Well, _

_Your (Faceless) Friend._

_P.S. Cause I've heard from some people I got acquainted with how boring the big house is, if you want, let me know what kind of things are allowed to be sent in and I'll see what I can do. I hear the food is as bad as the cafeteria food was at Sunnydale High. _

Carefully, she smoothed the pages and re-read them again. As the call for dinner was sounded, she tried to figure out who she could get some paper and a pen from to write back.

A soft smile on her face, she rolled from the bunk and walked towards the cafeteria. 

Somebody cared enough to write her.

  
End Chapter 1

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	2. Chapter Two

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: In case we're not clear on this, Joss owns the Buffy-verse (we really need a better word for it than that), I'm just tresspassing on an unwatching corner of it.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Two  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Faith gnawed on the end of the pencil. The paper was still as blank now as it had been when she had started staring at it almost an hour ago. 

_Hey Stranger,_

_I'm guessing that you know that its awkward to write a letter to somebody when you have no idea who they are. But, I'm going to give it a shot anyway._

_I am sorry to hear about Joyce. She was a cool lady. Can't say that about most of the adults I know. I hope that it was quick and painless. I'll miss her. _

_Damn. I feel all this stuff inside when I think about her, about how she was. It feels like such a waste to have somebody as decent as she was just be gone. I don't really know how to put the feelings I am having onto the paper. I feel bad for Buffy and Dawn, and yes, I do remember her. I also know that I never got to apologize to Ms. S about all the crap I brought down on her, and make up for my little visit to see her when Buffy and I traded places. I just hope that, where ever she is, she knows that I'm sorry for that incident. _

_If you would, please, do me a favor. Stop by a florist and get some flowers for her grave. I'm good for it, I swear. Please._

_And, if you think she's over the whole hating me thing, tell Buffy, and Dawn too, that I'm sorry for them. _

_That's it for now. I'll write some more in the morning._

_-- -- -- _

_Ok, I'm back This still feels kinda weird, not knowing who I am writing to. Anyway, could I at least get a hint or something? Throw me a bone here._

_Well, I wish I had as much to fill you in on as you can tell me, but I don't. I can give you the run down on what's been happening to me since last I was seen in the SunnyD._

_Obviously you knew I was in jail, so you must know that I confessed to the LAPD about the death of the assistant deputy. They had me before a judge two days later. I told them how I had been attacked by one of the gangs which run rampant in SunnyDale and how I had been trying to get away from them. It was an accident, I didn't realize that he wasn't a gang banger, and I just reacted, with the piece of broken board I was fending them off with. But, I did admit that it was my fault, nobody else's and that I was responsible for the fact that an innocent died because of me._

_So, now I'm in jail. Involuntary manslaughter. I was figuring they'd throw the book at me, but I guess the mayor wrote some pretty shining reviews before he got caught in that explosion at graduation. About the only good thing that came of that intern position. I look back at some of the things I did for him, and I just feel so dirty. God, I wish I had been smarter. But maybe in a way I am getting a second chance, but it doesn't make me feel any less dirty for what I did._

_In case you're wondering, jail sucks. Although, I must admit its still a step up from running the streets of Boston. The food is lousy, but you get three hot meals a day. About the only good thing is that they actually give you a chance to better yourself. And you've got nothing but time, so I just tested and got my GED, go me! Been thinking about taking some correspondence classes from UCLA, but haven't gotten the paperwork yet. Never really thought I was college material, but maybe I could do it. School was something that always got in the way. Now, I wonder what I could have done if I had stuck it out._

_Well, let's see. I got into a fight less than a week after getting here. Ended up winning, but got pounded on by the guards and stuck in solitary for a couple of days as a result. Pretty much the days are all about the same, unless something bad happens. _

_Thanks for writing by the way. It means a lot to me._

_Hope to hear from you again soon._

_Till then, _

_Faith_

_P.S. Regarding care packages, its kinda hit or miss. Sometimes food is allowed in, other times its not. Some books would be nice, but honestly, your letters are about the best thing you can send. ~ Faith_

  
A soft smile on her lips, Faith sealed the envelope and slid it into the envelope she had gotten, complete with postage. Carefully, she wrote the address from the return address of the first letter on the envelope. She looked at the envelope, her letter sealed inside, and chewed on the eraser again. It seemed wrong not to put some kind of name above the PO Box. Hesitating for a moment, she wrote the addressee, then waited for the mail cart to come around to send her letter.

Light shone on the contents of PO Box 92181 of the SunnyDale Post Office as the small door was unlocked and swung open. 

'Lets see Junk Mail, Junk Mail, Credit Card Offer a.k.a. Junk Mail.' A grin crossed the person's face as the address on the next envelope was read.

_"A Letter to My Mysterious Pen Pal"_

A chuckle could be heard as the envelope was carefully opened and the recipient began to read.

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	3. Chapter Three

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: In case we're not clear on this, Joss owns the Buffy-verse (we really need a better word for it than that), I'm just tresspassing on an unwatching corner of it.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Three  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Faith lay on the upper bunk in Cell 1013, Cellblock Sierra Golf One of the California Women's Correctional Facility. Resting on the pillow in front of her, its pages slowing being read, was a college textbook on Western Civilization. Jotting some notes down on her notepad, the young Slayer turned to the next page. It still felt a little weird, actually cracking open a textbook for some reason other than to tear the pages out to keep the fire burning in the winter, but oddly, she was proud of her efforts. After years of being told she would never amount to anything, which she had to admit had been pretty dead on till she had ended up in prison of all places, Faith felt as if she might actually be able to contribute something to society someday.

Other than killing demons and vampires, she added silently. 

The unbalanced wheel of the mail cart began its squeaky journey down the concrete catwalk, and Faith perked up. She knew better than to get her hopes up, but a large part of her was almost giddy with the thought that somebody out in the real world felt she was important enough to write to. The result was that every day since she had sent her last letter, she had anxiously awaited the mail delivery, hoping against hope that there would be another letter from whoever her pen pal was 

As the cart approached, she tried to keep her focus on the book in front of her. How would it look if she was pressed against the bars, waiting like some kind of pathetic girly girl for a chance to see the pop star of the week. But, even as she was telling this to herself, part of her indeed wanted to do just that. 

The mail cart passed in front of her cell, wheel squeaking with each rotation over the rough flooring. The trustee looked up at her, then kept on pushing the cart forward. It was a new girl today, the former trustee having gotten thrown in the hole when they found drugs in her cell. 

Faith's smile faded as the mail cart kept on going, right past her cell. A sigh crossed her lips and she tried to mask her disappointment. It wasn't a big deal, right. I mean, it was just a single letter. Hell, whoever it was probably hadn't even had a chance to write her back yet And then that annoying voice in the back of her head chimed in. Maybe they don't want to write you back. After all, who wants to write to a murderer. Its not like you're worth the time, nor paper, and especially not the thirty-four cents for a stamp. You deserve to be alone.. Not to have friends After all, who'd want to be friends to a person who did what you did in Boston? As low as

Before the internal diatribe could fully get up to speed, Faith was distracted by somebody speaking to her from outside the cell. "You Faith?" 

The Slayer looked up and saw the trustee standing there, an envelope in hand. Not trusting that she wouldn't say something stupid, she simply nodded. The envelope was slid through the bars and Faith gently plucked it from the trustee's hand. "Thanks." The trustee nodded and a moment later, the squeaky mail cart resumed its circuit of the cellblock.

Placing her notepad in the Western Civ book, Faith took a second to calm herself down before opening the letter. The last thing she wanted to do was tear this precious lifeline to the outside world. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she stopped. What had happened to her? Why was this letter so damned valuable to her anyway? It wasn't like anything earth shattering going to be in there, nor should these letters mean this much. Hell, she didn't even know who it was who was writing her, or who she was writing back to. 

But a part of her knew what was going on. And, if she was honest with herself, it scared her. Somebody out there was taking the time to talk to her, and for some reason, she was craving that human contact. Nobody in her life had taken the effort to talk to her, or to spend time with her. Sure as hell not her folks, or the gangs she had run with on the East Coast. The Council had wanted her to be their puppet and the Mayor wanted her to be Faith pondered that for a second. He had treated her well, she had to admit, but looking back, it was treatment along the lines of how one pampers a horse or a guard dog. Nothing more. 

Looking down at the envelope, she knew that finally, somebody cared about her. At least enough to spend a couple of minutes writing her. 

Her eyes watering slightly, the dark haired Slayer slid the letter from the already opened, thanks to the mail censors, envelop and began to read

_Hey Faith, _

_Got your letter yesterday. Sorry I didn't get a response in the mail then, but things have been kinda busy around here lately. You know how life can be in SunnyDale. Always a chess game occurring. Sometimes I think there are a whole lot more chess partners in town than we know about. And as soon as one of them sees an empty board, they immediately sit down at the table and its only then that we get to see the moves they have already pre-positioned on the board. I hate it sometimes. Just once I wish we had half the advantages they do. They have more pieces, more possible moves with those pieces and they're all gunning for the championship belt. All its going to take is a single time that they win and we're just screwed. Cause there are no rematches in this league One chance is all you get. If you lose, well, its definitely game over man. *sigh * At least we have some good players on the team, but I have to admit, I for one would love to have you back in town, helping us figure out how to best counter the moves of our opponents and help us make that winning move without losing any of our pieces to the opponent. It's a tough game. I hope we can keep our winning streak alive. _

_Sometimes I get scared. I bet that was something you weren't expecting to see. For some reason, I have been thinking about my own mortality lately. Probably has something to do with Joyce's death. By the way, I did what you asked. Well, mostly. I actually didn't get an arrangement, but instead planted a couple of small flowers there for you. That way they don't just whither away in a couple of days, but will be there for a long time, always bringing a bit of beauty to that sad place. Anyway, back to what I was saying. I've been thinking about what happens in this town a lot, about the odds we all have over come to make it this far. Joyce wasn't the first of us to pass on, but the cause was so meaningless. I mean, we survive everything this town throws at us, and she dies of an aneurysm. Hell, I don't even know if I can spell it right. Other than her, the only one of our team who we have lost has been Jenny Calender. I don't think you knew her, but she was a good person. Not to mention that she and Giles kinda had a thing going. But Angelus ended that with a sharp twist. She never even had a chance._

_Sometimes I think that's what going to happen to most of us. We all ride the knife edge, and one day, probably way too soon, somebody is going to slip. Cordy has been kidnapped, had a piece of rebar puncture her gut. Willow has been attacked by a large furry female version of Oz. Giles got turned into something that looked like a bad b-movie demon. Buffy actually drowned, but Xander brought her back. Xander has been almost turned into a fish boy, hit with some kind of bolt which literally made him of two minds about anything. Kendra, I almost forgot about her. She died for good too, thanks to Drusilla. How could I almost forget another of your line? God that makes me feel just so pathetic. How many others of your line don't even have that much, somebody to remember them other than the Council.._

_We're all on borrowed time I think. Hell, Riley is missing in action, as much as he hurt Buffy, its still hard to think he may be dead. I was talking to the gang up in LA a while back, and they have lost a good friend too. A guy named Doyle stepped up to save Cordy, Angel and a bunch of innocents. I didn't know him, but he sounded like a good guy. _

_This is a bittersweet battle we fight. No support, no help, no reinforcements, save ourselves. Sometimes its so damn depressing that I don't know how any of us manage to keep fighting the good fight. _

_But we do. We hold the line. No matter the cost, we hold the line. The innocents can go to sleep without wondering if the world will still be there in the morning. Sometimes I wish I still had those blinders on, but then I realize that if we weren't around, things would almost definitely be a lot worse. _

_* sigh* I'm sorry for dumping all this on you. I know you probably don't really need it, but I just have to get this out. It all feels so damn useless sometimes. I go out and try to save the world, and I can't even save my friends. Sometimes it feels like all we're doing is slapping duct tape over cracks in the Hoover Dam. But then again, come tomorrow, I'll be back at it, peeling off the tape and slapping it over holes. _

_I'm going to cut this short tonight. If you want, write me back and let me know what's up._

_Be Well Faith. The world needs more heroes. You have it in you to be a hero the world has never seen the likes of. Remember that. The rest of us need that light to follow, because sometimes this path is a dark and lonely one._

_Hope to hear from you soon._

_Till Then_

Faith traced her fingers over the paper the letter was written on. There were faint spots where it looked like the pages had gotten wet, then dried. Very small spots. Faith look at them and as she thought about the content of the letter realized what had caused them.

Tears. 

Whoever it was who was writing her was on the very edge they had spoken about. Life on the Hellmouth took its toll on everybody, whether they wanted to admit it or not. 

Flipping her notepad to a fresh page, Faith began to write. After all, she had a friend now and she was going to do what she could to make them feel better.

After all, that what friends do

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	4. Chapter Four

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: In case we're not clear on this, Joss owns the Buffy-verse (we really need a better word for it than that), I'm just tresspassing on an unwatching corner of it.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Four  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

_Hey Bud, _

_I wish I was there for you right now, instead of being locked up in here. Hell, that's not really too hard to imagine I guess, but I really wish I could be there. Sounds like stuff is tough in the SunnyD. Don't know that I'd really be any good at helping you face what's bugging you, but I really wish I could be there to try._

_If its any help, death follows us all. That was something I learned as a kid in Boston. Shit happens to good people, and we all check out sooner or later. I think the biggest things are how you live your life and how you face death. People remember you, not always for what you did, but how you did it and how you treated those around you. You mentioned sometimes wanting to put the blinders back on, trying to become one of the unaware people out there who live in their hoo-hum worlds. You think I'm a hero? I heard one time that heroes are called that due to circumstances beyond their control. I can tell you point blank I'm no hero. When my first watcher died, I tried to run from it all. I came to Sunnydale to try and get Buffy to handle everything because I was scared. Not of dying, well, not really anyway. But like I was saying, I tried to run from it. Hell, Buffy did the same thing from what little I was able to find out about your guys' pasts. Maybe it's a lineage thing. We had our fates seriously fucked with the day that we got stuck being what we are. There's no choice there. A Hero, a true hero, makes a decision to do what they do. If they see somebody about to get plastered by a truck and they sacrifice themselves to push the other person to safety, that's a hero. Somebody who puts themselves in between a bullet and an innocent, that's a hero. Our line aren't heroes. We don't have any say. The Scooby Gang, now they are heroes. They step up to the plate when by all rights they should have run screaming for safety. But instead they take part of the Slayer mantle and hold the line, fighting when they know damn well that one of these day's they're going to catch a fatal blow. But that doesn't stop them. See what I mean? Heroes, every one._

_I think I was rambling there. Yep, I was. Back to what I was talking about. You choose to fight the darkness, you choose to protect the innocents. For those who really know you, that's what they will remember. You could ignore reality, become a sheep again, but in your heart, you are doing what you know is right, no matter how tough it can be. And sometimes it will be a cast iron bitch. Tell you what though, I get out of here, I'll join you for that patching the dam exercise._

_Speaking of which, I guess I should probably fill you in on what's going on around this lovely resort facility I have found myself in. Things are going pretty well. I managed to get my GED, thanks to some help from the counselors here. Believe it or not, this wild child is actually working towards a college degree. Granted there's not a whole hell of a lot to do around here otherwise, but I think maybe I could get into this whole studying thing. Some of its actually applicable to my line of work too, although I really have to pick some weird courses to get the few gems I've found. So far I'm taking Western Civ., Eastern Civ., Latin (Believe it or not!) and a remedial math course. I always sucked at math, and even growing up a bit hasn't changed that. _

_I think that what I hate most about this place is how lonely it is here. Everybody is jockeying for power and position. Its like some kind of never ending rat race. The cons are constantly scheming and manipulating. The screws (guards) are always watching, seeing who they can pit against each other and also taking advantage of us cons whenever they can. God are they sadistic bastards. I feel bad for some of the girls who catch their eyes. Its creepy sometimes. I can feel their eyes on me, both the cons and the screws. But they know better than to mess with me. I got into a fight, a bad one, early on. I don't know if you know it or not, but there are pretty tight gangs in prison. Within a couple of weeks of my arrival here, one of the queens of the prison, and I don't mean a cross dresser by the way, decided that I was going to be her little bitch. Needless to say, I disagreed. And I told her what I thought of her, her offer and did so rather loudly. A few days later, she and her enforcers caught up with me in the yard. Pulled a shiv on me and tried to introduce it to my vital organs. Obviously, she failed, and I ended up breaking both of her arms as a thank you. Which, of course, brought the guards down on me like a ton of bricks. Nothing I could do but curl up in a ball and hope nobody decided to shoot me on principle. The week in the hole gave me time to recover though. The bruises were pretty deep. Interesting side note about my line I discovered. If we are in total blackness for extended periods of time, we, or at least I, am able to access, or at least use, some kind of bat-sonar kind of thing. Not real useful in an eight foot cube, but maybe somebody else would have use for it. Let Giles know so he can add it to his books. _

_Anyway, after that little incident, the cons left me alone and, as long as I keep my nose clean, the screws don't hassle me too much. Guess they don't want to run the risk of me getting mad at them, being able to take care of myself and all. _

_Kinda like life. There are so many people out there that are basically bullies. You stand up to them, get a determined punch through, and they bolt. Much like the demons you and I have to face sometimes. Fears are like that though. You get up the guts to stand and face them, they sometimes turn into so much smoke and just disappear. Other times you do have to go toe to toe against them, and yeah, they may get a couple of licks in, but at least you have a chance to beat them. All that you achieve by turning tail and running is that when they do finally catch up with you, is that you're tired. _

_~ sigh - You know, there were times in Boston where I would have killed, mostly figuratively speaking, to have a roof over my head, something warm to eat scratch that, something to eat, period. Now, I have those things and realize that I'd trade it all to be able to walk around outside, to stand under the stars, under the sun, without these walls and chains around me. Freedom is something that you really don't appreciate till its gone. But I'm paying the piper for what I did. Doesn't mean I can't miss the outside. _

_I miss the stars. You can't see them to well from the city, too much ambient light (that's school girl talkin!). Anyway, I used to lay in the park sometimes at night and just stare up at the heavens. Wonder about what was up there. Then reality always reared its ugly head and destroyed that moment of serenity. Its been years since I've looked at them, I just realized that. Another thing I lost somewhere along the way. It's a long list and it only seems to get longer. But sometimes at night I can see a couple of them through the window of my cell. Maybe I'm learning to dream again. Some of the nightmares are fading, but there's still so many. How does Angel do it? How can he even look himself in the mirror. Oh, never mind, dumb question~ Laugh ~_

_Well, I guess that's about it for tonight. Sorry if I rambled on a bit, but I think it mostly makes sense._

_Hope to hear from ya soon._

_Your Friend,  
Faith_

  


   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	5. Chapter Five

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: In case we're not clear on this, Joss owns the Buffy-verse (we really need a better word for it than that), I'm just tresspassing on an unwatching corner of it.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Five  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Begin Chapter 5

The yard. A few hundred square feet of broken green surrounded by the harsh prison walls. Faith sat on the grass, her back safety protected by the cinderblock wall of one of the buildings. One thing, well, one more thing, she hated was that she couldn't really push herself to her limits physically in here. Somebody would ask to many questions if she was seen bench pressing five hundred pounds, or seeing how far up the wall she could bounce from with a running start. A soft smile crossed her lips at that last thought. She knew that with a headstart and doing that Bruce Lee thing in the corner, she could be over that wall and on the streets in about 5 seconds. But that wasn't why she was here. 

This was punishment. Punishment for all the things she had done wrong. For all the pain she had caused, all the evil that had been done by her hands. As punishments went, it was a hell of a lot less than what she deserved, and she knew it. But it was the first, well, second or third maybe, on her own road to redemption.

Angel managed to do it, so could she. 

Her eyes drifted out over the other cons in the yard. Even here in the sunlight, as she basked in its warmth, she was being reminded of what she had lost. Freedom. The guards on the walls, weapons slung at their sides, a constant reminder that society didn't want her back, at least not yet. Not till she had paid for what she did.

And she was trying to. Rehabilitation. That one word had almost become her mantra. She spent her time studying, reading, trying to learn now from the mistakes of others so she wouldn't screw up anymore. Sometimes, she wondered what it would have been like to have never started down this path. To be able to walk down the streets without knowing that you had taken an innocent life. What it would be like to have people who accepted you for who you were, without them wondering when the monster would break free again.

The whistle sounded and the convicts headed back into the cellblocks. Faith rolled to her feet like jungle cat and padded her way inside. 

As she entered her cell, she saw an envelope sitting on her bed, addressed in that now familiar handwriting. The once fallen slayer smiled, as she knew that there was at least one person out there who had accepted her. 

_Faith, My Friend,_

_You know you're right. I used to look at the stars a lot too. There's something peaceful and serene about laying on your back underneath the uncluttered heavens. There was this place about an hour's bike ride from my place where I would often go when I needed to unwind when I was younger. Looking back now, I realize how damn lucky I was that something didn't grab me and use me like a capri-sun. But anyway, I had this place I would go, and just watch as the stars marched across the heavens. Maybe I'm to much of a dreamer, but I used to look up at all those shining points of light and just think about how many other worlds there were out there, how many different choices there were displayed before me. _

_Man, those days seem so far gone. Tell you what, someday we'll go out there together, if you want that is, and we can look up at the stars and just let all the crap the world throws at us wash away for a couple of hours. Heck, if you want, I can even show you where that famous Star Trek rock formation is You know, the one that was in Bill and Ted 2. _

_Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me a little bit about what your life was like on the east coast. That means a lot to me, and I swear, nobody else will know any of this. I think maybe that's part of the reason I have been kicking myself for not giving you more of a chance. My homelife, although not nearly as hellish as yours, wasn't a bowel of cherries. That's one of the reasons I like the stars so much. Watching the night sky let me forget, for a couple of minutes at least, the ugliness that was going on inside the house. _

_By the way, I'm sorry about dumping on you in the last letter I wrote. I was just feeling kinda distraught and the words just came out. You don't need that kind of crap, I know you must have enough shit going on in there without my adding any more. I'll try and make sure it doesn't happen again. _

_Just had a thought. The whole stars thing was running through my head again and I had a tangeant thought. Have you ever been scuba diving? Was something I had a chance to do a couple of times when I was younger. I just realized how much I did when I was younger that I don't do anymore. Hiking, scuba diving, beach combing. All of it pretty much came to a screeching halt in high school. _

_More casualties to the darkness. Anyway, maybe we can do some of that stuff when you get out. _

_You know, I keep doing that, assuming you'll be around here when you get out of the big house. I guess I'm just thinking to much, or maybe I'm not thinking at all, but I can't really imagine you being anywhere else. I know it sounds stupid, but I actually look forward to getting your letters. Somehow it feels like you're the only one I know who can really understand what its like. _

_I know SunnyDale has a lot of bad memories for you Faith, but it can have new memories too, good memories. I can tell you that you already have a friend here who will miss you a lot if you aren't around. ~sad sigh~ I miss you now. These letters are a beacon of light that I look forward to. Its kinda funny you know. I started writing you for a couple of reasons, to offer an olive branch to you and to try to make up for my mistakes towards you, and now after not even a half dozen letters, there's this weird connection I feel with you. _

_God, I hope this isn't freaking you out. Please don't take this as some kind of stalker kind of thing, cuz its not. _

_I guess its just that when we're writing, you see me as a person, and I see you as a person. And we are making a connection on a level that our little group doesn't seem to function on very often. Nothing is ever that simple around here. There's always something else going on, but on these fragile sheets of paper, we're just people. People who are in need of a friend, people who are tired of being pushed away or isolated. People who need that contact with somebody else. _

_You know, I watch these people out my window, walking along the street, hanging out with their friends and loved ones, and I realize just how important that is. It's a weird kind of balancing act we try to do. Go out at night, trying to keep people from being attacked by street gangs on PCP, come home and get a little bit of shut eye, go do what we all do during the days, try to spend a little bit of time with those we care about, assuming we have anybody. And then the whole thing repeats. _

_I think that without that friendship aspect of it, none of the rest would matter. Its like they said in Armeggedon, (did you see that movie?), that you have to live life in order to remember just what it is that you're trying to save when you're in orbit trying to drill a hole in a big rock to keep it from killing every man woman and child on the planet. Well, you get the idea anyway._

_Its getting to be dusk, and I watch as the streets are just about abandoned now. The first star is sparkling in the heavens. I wonder if you can see it from where you're at. Did you ever make wishes on the stars? I used to, but I guess the evil in this town kind of manages to grind down that wishful part. Then again, in this town, you better be careful about what you wish for. Damn careful. _

_You know, its probably been about ten years since I thought about wishing on a star. ~chuckle~ Maybe you're not the only one who is rediscovering something they thought they had lost. Pandora's box. I have no idea why that popped into my head, but it did. Must mean something. Well, I'll have to remember to research it next time I'm at Scooby HQ, which is at the Magic Box these days. _

_Trying to remember if you know what the Magic Box is Don't think you do. If you do, sorry bout the explanation. Giles bought the old magic supply shop in town, which was probably a good idea just on the amount of stuff we always found ourselves in need of. But anyway, he bought it and is running it. Doing pretty well too. Only had a couple of attacks by the "criminal element" of town, if you know what I mean. _

_Lets see. We're still playing chess against Glory, so far we seem to be holding our own, but not really making any great progress. Dawn and Buffy are surviving. Still no word from their dad. The guy is now officially on my what a creep list. I think Spike is falling for Buffy, but I am pretty sure the feeling one sided. Spike, now there's a character. Sometimes I want to stake him out for a killer suntan, then dance on the dust, other times he's actually decent. Not really sure what would happen if he got his overbite back. I'm wondering if he might not stop being a big bad for good. ~ Shrugs ~ Honestly, I hope we never find out. Who else Xander, well he got another promotion at the construction site, and a payraise. But I sense trouble on the horizon with Anya. Call it a hunch, but things seem tense from her side of things. Willow and Tara are doing good. Both of them are working hard on being better witches ~ laugh ~ that just sounds funny as I re-read it. _

_Well, that's about all I can think of for now, so I'm going to seal this up and send it on its merry way._

_Hope to hear from you soon._

_Thinking of you,_

_Me._

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	6. Chapter Six

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: Ave! Ave Joss! Ave! I'm just borrowing the characters to make sure the Writer's Guild Strike doesn't harm them.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Five  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Begin Chapter 6

_You know, I've written the damn greeting for this letter like six times now and I've just given up on it. Nothing feels right for it. I know what you mean about feeling that connection we seem to have developed. And no, I don't think it's a stalker thing. I don't know what it is, but you know what, it feels right somehow. It feels good. _

_By the way, your comment about Pandora's box. Hope. You said you felt like you were rediscovering something and mentioned Pandora's box. According to the popular interpretation of the legend, when Pandora opened the box, the first time she released a whole bunch of really bad stuff Despair, hate, and a whole lotta other stuff, so she slammed the lid shut, trapping one spirit type thing in there And the little voice kept asking her to let it out, because it was hope. And eventually she did. Which is why despite all the bad stuff out there, we always have hope. _

_I think maybe that's what both of us are feeling these days. Hope. I know that for the first time in a long time, I'm starting to feel good about what the future may bring. I mean, I still have a lot to make up for, but I actually want to make things better. I want to do good. Bet that's something you never thought you'd hear from me, eh? _

_You know, you're right though. Sunnydale has a lot of bitter memories for me. But I think maybe I would like to head back there when I get sprung from this place. I mean, I did a lot of shitty things back in the Dale, and I can't very well make it up to the people I hurt if I'm on the other side of the planet or something now, can I? _

_Plus, I think I'll take you up on that stargazing trip. Never been scuba diving. The water off Boston isn't exactly something you want to expose yourself to. Ever. So maybe that's two things we can do once I get back to the real world. From what I've seen on TV, it seems almost surreal. _

_You know, if more people would sit down and just communicate like this, not talk, I mean you can talk all day long and not make any inkling of a connection with somebody, but actually communicate, I bet the world would be a better place. God knows a bunch of the cons in here could have used that personal touch way younger in their lives. You know, its that touch that keeps us going. And yes, I am including myself in that now, because I realize that I lost that connection and that's about the time I started going down the wrong road. Although I missed Armageddon. Maybe we could rent it or something._

_Glad to hear that Giles bought that shop. Sounds like something right up his alley. Better day job than working at the high school. That job just had to suck big time. Although, I'm starting to think that it, school I mean, wasn't as bad as I thought it was._

_You know, I really wish things had turned out different when I came to SunnyD. I was at a bad place when I showed up, and I didn't do hardly anything right when I got there. Live and learn I guess. But I do regret it. ~laugh~ I mean, I know now that there is at least one Scooby that is worth getting to know, worth being friends with. _

_You know, it weird, it feels good to have somebody out there who wants to talk to me. Wants to know whats going on in my head and get to know me as a person. Most folks, well the guys see me as a potential screw, and the girls almost always see me as somebody to keep their boyfriends away from. ~ Sighing ~ You know, when I did the whole body switch thing with B., the whole thing of Riley telling me he loved me and being so damn gentle. It was just so damn unsettling. I've never had anybody be that sensitive to me before, especially when we were screwing. _

_I take that back.. There was one other guy who tried to be like that. But I freaked out and kicked his ass out in his boxers. I think that was one of the most heartless things I have ever done. I treated him like everybody else treated me, when he was reaching out to me. How's that for pathetic? One person tries to make me feel special and I go and fuck it up. Par for the course I guess. Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I were different. I watched all these teens having these good relationships, well at least as good as teen relationships get, and I wish I could have somebody hold me like they care about me for me instead of just as a quick roll in the hay. Its my own damn fault though, just like almost everything else. I act like a cheap slut, I don't know why anybody would treat me any different. ~ shaking my head ~ When I was in court before I ended up here, everybody else was in their best outfits, trying to look good before the judge. And here I was in a pair of tight leather pants and midriff top. I don't even want to think about what they thought I was in there for _

_~ sigh ~ I sit here, looking at the painted cinderblock wall at the foot of my bed, and long so much to be on the other side, able to bask in the sunlight and the warmth. Its never warm in here. The power bill for the air conditioners must be ridiculously high. I can see the shadows creeping up the wall, as the sun begins to drop. I realize how lucky I am that someday, I will be able to be back out there again. Can you imagine never seeing the sun again? I didn't used to appreciate it, but I do now. I wonder if the moon holds the same appeal to the chess partners you have. Somehow, I doubt it _

_Its almost chow time, so I'm gonna cut this short and get it in the mail. _

_Thinking about you a lot._

_Your Friend,   
Faith_

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	7. Chapter Seven

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: Joss owns all the characters. I burglarized his wall safe and made photocopies for my own use. I own nothing but a beat up car, a personal library of 600 books and a finicky Muse.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Seven  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Chapter 7

Her eyes closed, Faith slowly forced her arms up and down, moving her body through a twelve inch range of motion over and over again. It was oddly settling, the repetitive nature of exercise. Almost without fail, it allowed her to clear her mind of whatever junk was cluttering it up and focus herself towards whatever end she wanted to apply herself to. 

It still amazed her how much sharper her mind seemed these days. For some reason, she was soaking up knowledge like a dry sponge. It made her pause sometimes, wondering what else in her life she had written off as impossible before she really gave it a shot. Obviously school and education were something she had been way wrong about. School was just one of many things that fit into that category.

Up and down, her arms were slowly moving through the range. One thing that she had learned was that the slower you moved, the more effective the exercise was. There wasn't enough room in her cell to do martial arts practice, at least not the big stuff, so she focused on working out her muscles with pushups, sit-ups and isometric exercises. That plus a whole lot of stretching filled up a couple of hours a day. As she straightened her arm once more, Faith took a small breath, then closed her eyes and let it out. Her body was completely vertical there in the center of her small cell, her entire weight resting on her outstretched fingers and thumbs. Now, for something new. Carefully, she shifted her center of mass from the center and slowly brought her right hand, which used to be dominant before her Slayer-ness had been activated and triggered some kind of ambidexterity, up along her left arm, across her chest and held it to the side of her body. For a full ten count, she maintained that position, breathing slowly, focusing on her balance. Focusing on herself, on who she was inside. Focusing on her surroundings. She could sense the con in the cell across the corridor watching her, hear the sounds of the prison's lifeblood pumping through the walls. The sound of a guard's boots approaching her cell. 

Faith sighed, knowing that she didn't want to have to explain this to any guard who stopped by. Arching her back, she brought her feet down in front of her head, a position which would have resulted in most people screaming in pain from bending their spine like a piece of taffy. With a gentle push from her fingertips, she uncurled like a spring into a standing position, just as the guard stepped into view in front of her cell. A guard who had a clipboard in one hand and a good sized cardboard box nestled under the opposite arm. A box that Faith could see had her name written on the side.

"Need you to sign by the X, Stevenson." The guard slid the clipboard through the bars, the pen dangling from a string.

Faith ambled over to the bars, trying to maintain the illusion of calm which she most definitely was not feeling, and scrawled her signature on the marked line of the form. As soon as she had handed the clipboard back through, the guard called for the cell door to be opened and the steel bars slowly slid to the side. Before they had stopped, the guard handed the package through to Faith, who grabbed it with trembling hands. With a frog in her throat, she thanked the guard, then turned to her bed and sat down, staring at the cardboard box with a look somewhere between disbelief and awe. The clanking sound of the cell door closing didn't even register on her. 

A package. For her. Faith smiled softly, as there was only one person who it could be from. Her hands were trembling as she lifted open the flaps on the top of the box. The packing tape had already been cut by the mail inspectors as they checked for contraband. Sitting on top of the contents of the package was an envelope, her name on the front written in the now familiar handwriting. Her fingers plucked the letter from the box, and she held it in her hands, cradling it like one would a bird that had fallen from its nest. Her eyes wandered from the envelope to the package and back as she tried to decide which to pay attention to first. 

The letter won. Although she was almost giddy with the thought of a care package, these letters meant so much more to her than anything else in the world.

_Dear Faith,_

_I'm going to play a hunch here and say you are reading this letter before you go through the package I sent you. Stop and go through it right now, please. I want you to take a look at everything, because there are some things in there I want to explain to you. And, I have a feeling you're chewing at the bit to get into that box So please, dig in. _

Faith looked over at the box, then back at the letter.

_Go on! Dig in Come on, its all for you, so get in there and take a look. Its not like you've never gotten a gift before, right?_

As she read those words, Faith's eyes began to tear up. Desperately, she tried to dry them, push the tears away, with the heels of her palms, but it was no use. The only person who had ever given her anything, other than grief and bruises, had been the Mayor. Given her that damned knife so she could go out and be his own private little assassin. And she had. 

The tears rolled down her face as she struggled to regain her composure. She wasn't that person anymore. She was trying to make things right, trying to make up for the horrors she had committed. And she was, day by day, paying her debt to society, as lame as it sounded. As soon as she was out of jail, she would be able to do a lot more, actively fighting against the darkness as it tried to choke the life out of humanity, but first she had to put in her time in these walls to at least begin to atone.

After a few minutes, the tears stopped, and she dried her face, trying to hide the after affects of crying. In here, tears were a weakness and she didn't need the vultures to start circling her. She had finally gotten some solid breathing space without having to bring herself to the guards' attention and that was just fine by her. Wiping her hands on the sides of her shirt, she carefully began to pull items from the box. 

Faith shook her head as she saw the first batch of presents her friend had sent her. Socks. The super cushy kind of athletic socks. The ones that felt like you were walking on air while you were wearing them. She pulled out a pair and squeezed them gently in her hands. She couldn't believe how luxurious they felt. The ones the prison issued were paper thin and didn't do anything to keep the cold of the floor from soaking into your bones. Pulling her feet up onto the bunk, she peeled off her old socks and slid the new ones on. It was like night and day, they felt so soft. It was pathetic how much better something as simple as a pair of new socks could make you feel so much better. As she was pulling the several other pairs in the box out to put away, Faith's eyes fell on the treasure the socks had been padding.

Sitting there was a brand new Sony Mini-disc player. The box was still encapsulated in its shrink-wrap cocoon. Nestled along side it was a stack of brand new mini-disks. With both hands, the stunned Slayer picked up the box and set it on her lap. A look of pure disbelief was on her face. 

One of the things she had missed the most about prison was that there was no music. As stupid as it sounded, it meant a lot. No matter what shit she had been through in her life, she had always been able to turn on a radio or listen to somebody else's. Music was one of the few things that had always helped her deal with the shit in her life. But since she'd turned herself over to the LAPD, there had been no tunes. And now, sitting in her hands was music. Faith smiled, letting go of the box and picking up the mini-disks. Ok, now sitting in her hands was music. Idly, she began flipping through the disks, reading off the titles. 

The Corrs - In Blue, Type O Negative - Bloody Kisses, Holst - The Planets (Performed by the Montreal Symphony) , AC / DC - Back in Black, Lifehouse - No Name Face, Van Halen -5150, Cyprus Hill - Self-Titled, MegaDeath - Rust in Peace, Korn - Self-Titled, Linkin Park - Hybrid Theory, Otis Reading - The Ultimate Otis Redding, Blues Masters - Post War Chicago, Scottish Rogues - Self-Titled.

Faith felt her eyes watering up again as she stared down at the eclectic musical collection. She wanted to cry and jump and down and laugh all at the same time. It was such a rush. Carefully she set the mini-disks on top of the box containing the player and moved them against the wall so they wouldn't fall and get damaged. 

Her dark tresses fell across her face as she reached into the box again, this time pulling out two 12 packs of batteries, for the mini-disk player she assumed. Can't play music without juice, she mused. Next the box let loose a stack of books, half a dozen tall. First was a book on Tai Chi, followed by one on Eastern Asian Culture and Religion and its much thicker, and older, cousin on East Asian mythology and demonology. A hardback copy of Tolkien's trilogy was next, along with what looked to be military sci-fi. Finally, there was a blank hardcover, suitable for sketching or keeping a journal. Faith set those on the edge of her desk, next to her coursework for the distance learning program. 

The package was over halfway empty now. A package of good pencils, wooden pencils Faith automatically noticed, along with a tiny pencil sharpener. Her friend was giving her more than something to write with and she knew it. One of her concerns was that if some vamp came looking for her, she wouldn't have any way of dusting it short of ripping its head clean off. Not a problem any more. 

Finally, Faith pulled the last two items out of the cardboard box. The first was a bag of oranges, about five pounds worth. The second was a full box of chocolate bars, and not the cheap kind either. A complete, sealed box of Ghiradelli Dark Chocolate with Raspberries. Her mouth began to salivate at the sight of these last two items and she had to resist the urge to tear into them right then and there. Her body had been in low gear since her arrival, due the lack of calories she was given in the cafeteria. A Slayer's metabolism was a fearful thing, and what was adequate for most normal people was barely enough to keep her functional, nowhere near what she needed to be in peak condition. Then again, there wasn't a lot of need for her to be in peak fighting trim in jail, now was there. 

As she was moving the box off the bed so she could stretch out and finish the letter, she heard something rolling around inside. Looking, she found a pair of tubes of lip gloss, both far lighter than what she used to wear, almost natural in color. Smiling, she opened one up and traced it across her lips, feeling the long missing sensation of her lips being protected from the dry air of the prison. That done, she stretched out, careful not to disturb her new bounty, and began to read.

_Think of it as an early Christmas present. I'd say maybe a birthday present, but honestly, I don't know when your b-day is. Yet another thing we messed up. _

_I guess I'll give you the low down on everything that's been happening lately before waxing philosophical this time. First some good news, then some bad. But read the whole thing before you react at all. I guess the most important thing is that we won our championship match against Glory. She had us suckered a couple of times, due to some convenient camouflage on her part. She even managed to get one of her lackeys to slice Dawn up pretty good. Which was big time a bad thing. World getting sucked into hell kind of bad. I can now say I've seen a dragon, as one popped through the door when it opened. I hope the thing starves to death, cause I don't want to deal with it. Buffy had figured out that the blood was a two way switch and that the only way we could stop it was to use the same blood, in this case Summer's blood, to close it. So she did a half gainer off a hundred foot tall tower, through the door, then hit the ground._

_I've got to say, she's the only one I know who can come back from the dead twice. I hope you managed to finish that sentence before it sunk in. She's better now, but I don't want to get into too much detail. I wonder though if it triggered the calling of another. That would really freak out the Council I bet. Three instead of one _

_Dawn is recovering pretty well. All this stuff hitting in sequence like this has really knocked her for a loop, but I think she's back on the horse now. I'll fill you in some more on her when we get together._

_Let's see. Tara got her head screwed back on straight after we beat Glory. Brain sucking abilities are not a nice thing Willow was major league pissed and managed to smash Glory up pretty good, despite Glory's god complex. Of course, she had to resort to some major dark mojo there, which we're hoping will not have any lasting effect, but you know, uncomfortably well, how seductive that kind of thing can be._

_Xander and Anya broke up. Can't say I'm really surprised. He came home from work and caught her with an ex-work associate of hers. She told him that since they were talking of being together for good, that she had to experience as much as she could before the 'archaic commitment ritual'. Plus, she told him that she was pretty sure that she wasn't the only one he had feelings about. Needless to say, the relationship was officially kaput at that point. Anya moved out of town a couple days later, nobody seems to know where. _

_Spike's still hanging around, helping out. Bumming smokes and mixing WheataBix with his beverage of choice. Ick!_

_Giles is doing pretty good He's been playing guitar at a local coffee shop a couple nights a week. He's pretty good, never would have expected him to be able to play guitar or sing. Guess we all have hidden depths. _

_Anyway, that's the news from SunnyDale. If I knew how to write out that sound they make on the news radio channel I would. _

_Been thinking a lot. Again. Wait, I said I'd explain the stuff in the package to you. Crap, sorry about that. Most of the stuff is pretty self explanatory, but the books and the music, well, there's a bit of something there._

_I wish I knew better what kind of tunes you like. I kinda went through what kinds of stuff I like to listen to, or maybe relate to would be a better description. If you want any specific albums, let me know what they are and I'll try to track em down. You know, as I look at these mini-discs in front of me, I realize that my musical tastes are a bit odd, to say the least. The Planets. Now, let me preface this by saying that classical music normally isn't my thing. But there is something about this stuff. It's all in there. No matter your mood, one of the tracks will match it perfectly. Or, you can just start from the beginning and listen all the way through and it will take you through good memories and bad ones, the highs and lows and everything in between. The Blue Masters album is another one like that. The music, the sound it evokes one feeling, but the lyrics are something completely different. And the style. They just don't play like that anymore. Its like looking into an era long past. Otis Reading. The man was just, well he was damn good. Timeless kind of stuff. About just how life can be. And how we should try and live it. _

_Lets see, what else am I sending you. Some of the others remind me of various things I have had to go through in my life, others about how I feel about certain times, certain events and certain people. A couple of them just let you loose yourself in the music, letting it wash over you. ~ Laugh ~ Bet you never thought you'd ever get any bagpipe music as a gift, did you? Its weird, I used to think it sucked, but I was on the beach one day, and there was this piper playing down by the docks, and it just resonated within me. Kinda gets me going when I'm down, recharges me I guess. I can understand now why so many armies used to use em in battle, they inspire the troops._

_The books are mostly things I thought you might like to read. Again, I didn't know what you liked, so I sent a variety. Tolkien is still one of the best writers of all time. I thought maybe Tai Chi could help you look inwards a bit, work on focus. Plus, it's a pretty good workout, even if it looks goofy as hell. And if you speed it up, it's a pretty solid martial art. The sci-fi book I sent you is the first in what a lot of people consider to be some of the best sci-fi being written today. I checked it out an in about 8 years, David Weber has written close to twenty novels, all of them selling like hotcakes. The books on Eastern stuff is pretty much just to help you with your studies. ~ grin ~ You keep that up by the way. Its damn important, believe me. _

_Finally, the blank book. I thought maybe it would be good if you wanted to keep a journal or something. Maybe just draw in it. Anyway, it's yours, so enjoy. The pencils are #2 hardwood, not some of those crappy plastic ones made to look like wood. So, they should work for artwork or writing or anything else you need to use them for. _

_Oranges and chocolate. What can I say, they're damn good. And I know that you probably aren't getting as much to eat in there as you would like, so think of them as, well, treats _

_Well, that's it for the package. So, now on to more mundane subjects. _

_Well, mostly that's all for the package. I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoy everything in there. _

_I wish I could see your face when you opened it up and saw everything inside. I get the feeling that you haven't had a lot of kindness in your life. Hell, that's about a thousand percent understatement. Maybe that's part of why it feels so damn good when I'm writing to you. Because my life hasn't been exactly a bowl of cherries. More like a bunch of pits. ~ sigh ~ I keep thinking that's why I should have known better what you were going through, tried harder to be more supportive of you. But, I wasn't, so I'm trying to make up for it. _

_You know, as I'm sitting here, trying to think what you're going to look like when you see everything, I realized something very sad. I've never seen you smile Faith. Oh, I've seen you smirk, and I've seen that predatory snarl kind of look which some people have probably mistaken for a smile. But I've never seen a real smile on your face. I've never seen your eyes light up with happiness. Or laughter. That's something else I realize you've never done in my presence. You've chuckled, you've laughed at people, hell you've laughed at me, but I've never heard what you sound like when you truly laugh from your very core I hope that I can help you be happy again, or maybe just be happy at all. You deserve so much better than you have gotten Faith._

_You know, as we write these letters back and forth, I realize how much better we are getting to know each other and I wonder about how the rest of the gang would react if they knew And I realize, I really don't care. You're worth knowing, worth being a friend to, and if they don't get it, then that's just to bad for them. ~ chuckle ~ not like the rest of the gang has lied about big things in the past. At least I have a good reason, cuz you definitely deserve a second chance. _

_I think I'm babbling now, so I'm gonna finish this up and get the package in the mail. _

_Take care of yourself, Faith. You're in my thoughts a lot these days ~ grin ~ What a scary place to be _

_Your Friend,  
Me.  
_

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	8. Chapter Eight

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: Joss owns all the characters. I burglarized his wall safe and made photocopies for my own use. I own nothing but a beat up car, a personal library of 600 books and a finicky Muse.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Eight  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Chapter 8

_Thank you just doesn't seem to be good enough to get what I am feeling right now across. You have no idea how much all this means to me_

_Its almost too much. I feel all jumbled up inside, and I'm not quite sure how to handle that. _

_You said that you've never seen me smile before. I have to admit, that I've never been one to smile a lot, never really had reason to, you know? But I can tell you, I smiled when I saw all of this and read your letter. Truth be known, I cried a little bit too. I don't deserve all of this stuff. I mean, I love it all, and am overjoyed that you gave it all to me, but I don't deserve it. ~ soft smile ~ But thank you. I don't know what else to say but thank you. I wish you could have been here, not in jail here, but with me, so you could have seen me smile. ~ Laugh ~ Of course, then I would also know who you are._

_But then again, I do know who you are. Not your name, but I do know that you're my friend. And that's far more important than anything else. _

_~ Smiling (Just use your imagination for now) ~ You are aware that I am going to give you the best christmas present you've ever gotten in your life in return for this treasure you've given me. Unfortunately, its going to have to wait till I get out of here, unless you are overwhelmable by soap on a string from the commisary. ~ Laugh ~ _

_The oranges and chocolate are great, I had one of each right after I opened the mini-disk and started listening to the albums you sent me. You have no idea how much I have missed listening to tunes. It makes the world, all the troubles, just slip away and you can wallow in the music.   
  
God, I keep wanting to just babble thank you over and over again. I'm going to do my best to resist that urge. Thanks. ~ grin ~_

_The music you sent me is great. I've listened to all of them now, which is why its been a couple of days since I got your package and I'm just now writing you. So much to go through. I am doing some of the exercises from the Tai Chi book, they seem kinda odd, till you speed em up quite a bit, then you can tells its actually a martial art. Tolkien is pretty cool, although I've gotta say, I don't think he's actually met anything he's writing about. _

_In regards to being in your thoughts, there are a lot worse places to be. You're in mine a lot too, although being kinda vague and non-descript in physical appearance. But I know how you are inside, and I am glad that you took the time to write me. That you took the time to get me to open up to you and to make that connection between us, letting it grow and strengthen. I hope that once I get out of here, you'll let me know who you are _

_Its weird, all through my life, I have tried to stay away from people. That way they couldn't hurt me. I built armor around myself, burying who I was with layers of defenses. And now, I find myself waiting for your letters, thinking about you. Guess maybe I am starting to change, to grow up a bit.. .Now there's a scary thought. _

_I'm sorry to hear about Xander and Anya. He deserves better than that. I think about him sometimes. Of all the Scooby Gang at this point, I think that he impresses me the most. And of course, I went and tried to kill him. Yet another thing I have to make up for once I get out of here Its such a long list these days._

_Giles plays guitar? Never would have guessed that one. ~ laugh ~ _

_Spike. Gotta say, I'm not really sure as to what he's all about. I mean, I can understand turning over a new leaf and everything. I mean, look at Angel, but Angel has that whole curse thing going for him where as Spike, well I mean, he was like a serious big bad, and now he's helping out of the goodness of his heart Somehow it seems off to me And Wheatabix Ick is right! _

_Glad to hear Willow and Tara are doing better. That one kinda threw me for a second when I woke up But everybody deserves to be happy. ~ Laugh ~ Except Angel, cuz we know where that leads. _

_I think I'm kinda out of stuff to say right now, other than thank you one more time. Its so unreal. Nobody else in my lefe has ever cared enough about me to give me anything, not for the right reasons anyway. You've made me eel more special than you can imagine, and I still don't know how to thank you. This is one of those things that truly can't ever be repaid, because the way it makes me feel is so difficult to even put into words _

_Thank you my friend._

_Yours,   
Faith_

  


   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	9. Chapter Nine

Untitled Document

Disclaimer: Joss owns all the characters. I burglarized his wall safe and made photocopies for my own use. I own nothing but a beat up car, a personal library of 600 books and a finicky Muse.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Nine  
By IceWing ([icewing@one.net][1])

  
Chapter 9

_Bet you weren't expecting another letter from me so quick were you._

_I thought about waiting till I got your letter to write again, but I wasn't sure if I could wait that long._

_Sorry, I'm being kind of vague and cryptic aren't I? Don't worry its not bad, at least I really hope you don't think that it is._

_I'm getting out of here! _

_God, those words look so small, but there's so much behind them. _

_The guards pulled me aside this morning on the way to the yard. I thought maybe they were going to come down on me for something, but instead they told me that if I can keep my nose clean for the next couple of weeks, that I've only got 18 days left._

_I thought I would have to go before a parole board or something, but apparently, since the court convicted me of a major misdemeanor (personally I thought it was a felony) there's no need to go before a parole board. That's only for convicted first degree murderers and other violent individuals (go figure, involuntary manslaughter isn't violent… Only in California ) Anyway, for each day I've been in here, they take two off my sentence. Plus since they're short on room, and as I've been a model prisoner (once again, not exactly a shining reference, as people who are in here are guilty of something…) they're going to cut me loose way early. A year and a half of probation, but its less that what I deserve, although the state doesn't seem to think so._

_Re-reading what I wrote, I guess I've been babbling. Sorry about that. Its just that all of this is so sudden. I had figured I had a couple more years in here at the least, and bam! _

_I was kind of wondering if you still thought that it would be good to get back to SunnyDale? Do you think that the Scooby Gang would accept me back? Should I even try?_

_Anyway, I'm not going to make this super long as I want to get it in today's mail. _

_Let me know what you think. I'm pretty sure that they'll give me a bus ticket back to Sunnydale, as that was were my last address was, but I'm not sure…. Any chance you could come get me? ~ smile ~_

_Counting down the days till hopefully you will reveal yourself._

_Faith_

   [1]: mailto:icewing@one.net



	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I think everybody knows who does and doesn't own the people I am writing about in here... 

Lonely Letters 

Chapter 10 

By IceWing (icewing@one.net) 

As she walked back from the shower, Faith was trying to use the threadbare towel to soak a little bit more moisture from her damp hair. It was an almost impossible task, as there was hardly enough cotton in the towel to hold it together, much less to soak up any water. 

Her eyes lit up as she entered her cell and saw an envelope sitting on bed. Almost greedily, she tore it open. 

Dear Faith, 

That's great news, and of course I still want you in SunnyDale. After all, we've got a couple of activities planned, now don't we? Hope you're still up for scuba diving and that hike we've talked about. 

Don't worry about if they give you a bus ticket, I've set up a ride back for you. The kinda bad news is that there are only two people who I feel comfortable asking to come get you, well two people with cars anyway. Giles is going to be at an estate auction in Santa Barbara that day, but Xander agreed to come get you. 

I think I'm going to be secretive a little while longer... Think of it as a surprise when you get back into town. Is there anything else you're going to need once you get in town? A job, place to stay, etc? If you do, let me know and I'll see what I can find for you. Wish I could guarantee something, but I'll do my best if you need anything. 

You know, its weird, I face down vamps and demons and such, and to tell you the truth, I'm a little afraid that you're going to blow me off when you get out. I mean, I know that you won't do that, but part of me is scared that when you find out who I am, you're going to be disappointed and maybe ignore me, like everybody else does half the time. 

I want to let you know, before things change, that your friendship these past few months has been great. I get to talk to you in a way that I can't with anybody else. And for that I want to say thanks. 

~ rueful chuckle ~ Man, from that last part you'd think you were going on death row instead of getting ready to be released. Sorry bout that. 

I have so much more I want to say, but don't really know how to put it down right now. Maybe I'll be able to say all this better when you're out and we can sit down over coffee and just spend the night, or maybe the day considering what our nights tend to be like around here, talking about everything and nothing. 

Take care of yourself, I'll see you soon. 

Me 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: That's it. I'm tired of trying to come up with catchy, innovative disclaimers. I'm blantantly ripping off the characters I am using, I ain't getting nothing for em (that's right! A double negative! * smirk * ). If you are really in doubt as to who owns em, look at another chapter.   
Lonely Letters   
Chapter 11   
By IceWing (IceWing@one.net)   
  
Hey,   
Counting the days down now… I'm actually wondering if you'll get this before I get out of here.   
  
First thing I want to say is that there is no way in hell, or on the hellmouth ~smirk~, that I'm going to blow you off or push you aside. I mean, I know I haven't been exactly the most stable of people in the past, but that's not who I am anymore. I'm glad to have you as a friend, and that something that'll never change, no matter who you are.   
I know what you mean about being a bit nervous. Everytime I think about being out of here, my stomach kind of does flip-flops. I mean, what if I screw up again? Am I really on the right path this time? I did so much wrong, I don't deserve a second chance, do I? I just hope I don't screw things up again. I want to do what's right, but sometimes I just don't know if I can…   
  
I may need a place to crash when I get out of here. I think I had some cash on me when I was arrested, but not enough for a room. Was talking to the shrink the other day, she said that they will set me up in a half-way house in the Dale (somehow I think the black hats may know ALL about that place, I mean, whats better than some people nobody cares about and the cops wouldn't miss at all….), not exactly my first choice, but if it comes down to it, I could crash there I guess.   
  
Been wondering about what the gang will say when they find out that I'm back in town. Somehow I'm thinking that's not going to be a fun meeting. Kinda wondering how many of em will try and take me down as soon as they find out. Not that I would hold it against them, after what all I did. But it would make it a bit tougher to make amends if they take me out. Or ship me back to the Council. That's not a fun thought either, not after what I put Wesley through.   
  
I'm babbling I think. Pretty much a sign I should wrap this up. My mind is racing, but the words just don't want to come out. I mean, I never was good about talking, but I wish I could get some more of these thoughts out. Its frustrating.   
  
Gonna drop this in the mail on the way to the yard. Not many more times I'll get to be outside, surrounded by bars. That's one thing I am so not going to miss.   
  
See you soon.   
Faith


	12. Chapter Twelve

Lonely Letters - Chapter 12 

Disclaimer: Joss owns all the characters. I burglarized his wall safe and made photocopies for my own use. I own nothing but a beat up car, a personal library of 600 books and a finicky Muse.

Lonely Letters  
Chapter Twelve  
By IceWing (icewing@one.net)

  
Chapter 12

Faith stood at the door of her cell, looking for the last time at the bare concrete walls. The prison had given her a cheap duffel bag to put her belongings into. Even with the contents of her care package carefully nestled inside, the bag wasn't anywhere near full. 

Looking down at herself, she once again wished she had some different clothes to wear out, but thanks to the California Penal System, she was leaving the big house with the same clothes on her body that she had arrived in. The only difference was covering her skimpy midriff top was a UCLA sweatshirt she had traded a couple of oranges for. Somehow, leather pants and a sweatshirt just didn't quite seem right. But it was all she had. And, truth be known, she really wasn't all that concerned with what she was wearing as long as she was able to step beyond these walls today and into the future that lay beyond.

One thing was bothering her somewhat. Even before she was really even adjusted to the concept of being free, she was going to have to face someone who had every right in the world to hate her. The dark haired slayer sighed. She had spent the time that the state, that society said she owed for the death of Alan Finch, but now she had to start the much more daunting task of earning forgiveness from those whom she had betrayed during her foray into the dark side of the Force. Forgiveness that she really had no right to even ask for. Forgiveness that she really doubted would be offered or given, even if she tried her best to prove that she was no longer the person she had been. 

The guard approached the door of her cell, calling for the door to be opened. The track grated a bit, like it had since the day she had moved into the cell, as it opened its maw to release her from the grayness of the cell. A perfunctory check was made by the guard to make sure that she hadn't left anything obvious behind. The prison really didn't care all that much, as anything still in the cell would either be disposed of during the cleaning which was slated prior to the next occupant's arrival, or one of the convicts would make off with anything left behind as if it were some valued treasure.

Faith knew that there was nothing left behind. She had gone over the cell top to bottom a half dozen times to make sure that what few treasured possessions she had were going to remain her's and remain in her possession. 

The guard gestures for her to exit the cell and start the walk to the administrative offices, where she would spend the next two hours going over discharge paperwork. As she walked, she said goodbye to the few convicts she was on speaking terms with, pointedly ignoring all the rest.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **   
Faith saw him as soon as the outer gate swung open. He was laying back on the hood of the same car he had used to save her life with all those months ago. A lifetime removed in the past. She saw that he was working with a pocketknife and a piece of sandpaper on what looked to be a finely crafted stake. Drawing a deep breath, she hesitantly approached the curb. 

The sound of the gate closing behind her got his attention, and he swung his feet to the ground, facing her.

"Faith," he said, his voice revealing nothing about what emotions he was experiencing as she approached. 

"Um, hey Xan." She hesitated for a moment, not knowing quite what to say next. 

"Want me to toss that in the trunk for you?" Xander asked while pointing at her duffel.

"If you don't mind, could I just put it in the back seat? There's a couple of kinda delicate things in here and I don't want em to get damaged."

The Slayerette simply shrugged. "Whatever You ready to hit the road?"

Faith placed the bag in the back, then turned to face Xander once more. "Nothing holding me here. But there is something I wanted to say to you before we headed back to the Dale." The raven haired young woman looked down at her hands for a moment, almost hoping there would be something written there for her to say. "I know I've treated you bad before Xan. You didn't deserve to have me try and kill you like I did. And you didn't deserve the badmouthing I was always giving you. And I shouldn't have tossed you out of my room right after you saved my life and then I dragged you back there and screwed you. I don't know if I can make any of that stuff up, but for what its worth, I'm sorry."

Xander looked at her for a moment as he gauged her words. After a moment's hesitation, he simply responded that it was in the past. This was the now. As long as she was willing to give her best attempt to reform, then he would give her the chance to prove herself.

The dark haired Slayer moved to get into the car, but hesitated. "Xander, if you don't mind my asking, who was it that asked you to come get me today? I mean, I appreciate it and all, but you and I don't exactly have the best track record in the world. So why are you here?"

"Sorry Faith, but I'm not supposed to tell you who it was. All I can say is that I was asked to be here by some one I trust."

Faith shook her head with a faint smile on her lips. "Somehow I didn't think it would be that easy Oh well." She opened the door and slid into the car. "SunnyDale here we come." As she tried to get comfortable, she realized that she was sitting on something, and reached under to pull whatever it was free. An envelope, with her name written on it. She looked at Xander quizzically, but his only response was a silent shrug.

Without another word, Faith sliced the envelope open with the tip of a nail, pulled the letter out and began to read

_Faith,_

_Well, how does it feel to be able to see the sun as a free woman again? I have to say that I am glad that you're out. I hope that as time passes, you'll realize that there are some good people out here and you don't have to be as guarded as you were before. You're a wonderful woman Faith, I hope you know that. _

_You have a second chance Faith. Not a lot of people get that. Know that, whatever you do, I'll be by your side to help you in the days ahead. Its not going to be easy for you. A lot of the people in SunnyDale aren't going to believe you've changed. That you genuinely want to do the right things. I'm not one of them. Of course, I haven't actually told anybody that you're getting out. As far as I know, Angel hasn't told anybody either, and I asked him not to. So, what you do from here is completely up to you. No matter what happens, I'm here for you Faith, all you have to do is ask and I'll do anything I can to help you. _

_I'll stand by you even if nobody else does, so never doubt that there is at least one person who is behind you and backing you up. _

_I think I'm going to wrap this up, because I think we have a lot to talk about and for the first time, you now have a person who cares about you and wants to see you happy. _

_Love,_

_Xander_

Faith looked at the letter, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt Xander's arms wrap around her, pulling her close as the tears rolled down her face. "Its ok Faith I'm here for you, just like I promised I would be."

She tried to wipe the wetness away, but her eyes kept welling up with tears of happiness. "Thank you. For everything."

Xander simply smiled and softly squeezed her hand. "Time for you to come home Faith."

Faith looked at her friend, and for the first time in a very long time, felt that she indeed had a place that was home. A place were at least one person cared about her and wanted her there "Let's go home."

End - Lonely Letters - 

_Thanks for coming along on this little adventure, Folks. I appreciate all the feedback and kind words. Look for a followup as well as an interlude piece, which will take place before chapter 12. _

_I hope that everybody enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I would like to thank Calen and Jason for their help beta-reading in this and serving as sounding boards for this and my other pieces. Plus, they didn't run screaming for the hills every time they got a message for me. _

_Since I'm stealing his characters here, I'll thank Joss for coming up with such a cool universe to let my mind go crazy in, as well as Nicholas Brendan and Eliza Dushku for doing such a great job with their characters. I doubt any of them will read this, but they deserve a hearty well done._

_And finally, I want to thank my fiance for putting up with my constant babblings about the characters and their reactions to different things. You're my Muse. I love you honey._

_  
_

_  
_


End file.
